


David's Voice

by Dr_Shenk



Series: David's Family [2]
Category: Emmy The Robot (Webcomic)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:34:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29477058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Shenk/pseuds/Dr_Shenk
Summary: David the botler learns the reason why he was chosen, and looks to live up to his owners' choice.
Series: David's Family [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135841
Kudos: 1





	David's Voice

It had been nearly a week after Christmas that David was happily settling into his new life with his master family, the Warners. Ever since he was introduced to the house, the work had been exact and precise, the children each had a breakfast, lunch and the main course of dinner prepared every day. Never did David have a complaint… But there was the one false alarm of Aurella Warner possibly having the baby earlier than expected. Mr. Warner was not available, so it had to be him to drive Mrs. Warner all the way to the hospital.  
Halfway through the trip to the hospital, Mrs. Warner said that she couldn’t feel the contractions anymore, but David insisted on taking her the rest of the way.  
“Regardless, ma’am, we are not medical professionals. I think we would all feel better having a professional opinion.”  
“And the pregnant woman’s opinion isn’t good enough?” Aurella asked in disbelief. “I have had two kids before this one, Davey. I think I know how my body works by now.”  
“I want to make perfectly sure, madam. It is literally my duty to ensure the safety and well-being of all the members of the household.”  
Aurella scoffed and rolled her eyes as she leaned back in her seat of the car as they were finally in the entry lane for the hospital.

“Yep, it’s a false alarm,” told the specialist in the maternity ward of the hospital.  
David made a simulated sigh of relief with a slumping of his broad shoulders. His mistress just gave a leaned-over look at him like he was the silliest thing on the planet, with a sassy grin to boot.  
“Your little dickens is cutting it a little bit close, though,” mentioned the experienced lady doctor. “He’s supposed to be due, what, just two more days?”  
Aurella rubbed her large belly with a smile. “Yeeeeah, this one is trying to give his mama and everybody a scare, just like his big brother.” The pregnant woman patted her belly and shook her head as she heaved her own sigh. “Something about the men in this family, I swear to God. Before Evan was born, he scared me and his father three times. The last time was right before he was meant to be due. Freaked us out ahead of four days, the little thrill-seeker. Darcie didn’t give me One-Bit of trouble, though. Just a smooth pregnancy the whole way through.” Aurella even emphasized what she said with a gesture of her hand smoothing down some imaginary fabric, as if to straighten it out before her.  
The doctor made a tugged grin and a deep, “MM-hm~” as she gave a short nod to her patient while finishing up the paperwork on her clipboard. “Boys always tryin’ to find some way of makin’ problems. We’re always stuck cleaning up the mess.”  
“Amen to that,” added Aurella with a bit of cheek in her tone.  
David merely looked confused by what the two ladies were talking about. “We do?” the curious robot posed as he looked in his mistress’ direction. Aurella gave a little shake of her head and a motherly giggle to the android as she gestured a dismissal of the idea with her hand. “Don’t worry, David. You’re not involved in that statement.”  
“Oh, alright,” the robot answered back with an unassuming smile, turning his head away… But a curious set of blinks came from the manufactured lids of his optics and his brows knitted. His mouth opened slightly as he took a ¾ glance at his mistress, new questions rising in his artificial mind about the implications of her words and what they meant.

It was just about the time when David was escorting Mrs. Warner from the hospital down the maternity ward hall that they saw a man rush past the double doors of the maternity ward and rush toward the front desk. It was a familiar face of a man with black, curly, short hair that was a little grayed at the temples, a lightly peppered mustache and little goatee patch on his chin. Brown eyes wide with panic behind squared frames with slightly rounded edges, the frames gilded with brushed gold, temple earpieces wide in an acrylic that had things like little stars, musical notes, records, tapes and CDs made of foil glitter in light, clear blue and artsy swirls of fine gold dust. He was dressed in a business-casual outfit, the psychedelic tie he had gotten for Christmas loosely hanging from his collar.  
“Ah-uh- Warner, has a Misses Aurella Warner been checked in? I’m her husband, Ben Warner!”  
The receptionist simply pointed to where David and Aurella were standing in the hall that led to the proper exit of the hospital. Mrs. Warner raised a brow, her arms crossed as a panting Benjamin Warner approached them, sweat pouring from his brow. “Wh-what did the doctor say? Are you having the baby right now? Is there a wait or something?”  
Without missing a beat, Aurella complained, “You’re Late, Ben.”  
“Huh? Did you have the baby already? I missed it?” The man looked confused and disappointed in himself as the wondering to his wife’s answer filled him with a sense of failure.  
“No, but you *would* have. Where in the heck were you that it took you until now to show up?”  
“Ella,” reasoned and pleaded Ben, “I was literally in the middle of closing a deal with a rock-star’s next record and label-“  
“Oh, for crying out loud,” grumped the pregnant woman, pinching her nose bridge, lifting her own simple, round-frame glasses.  
“It’ll pay for our bills and the kids’ college funds for the next ten years, at least!” explained Ben, defending himself. “Besides, did you see the traffic on the way over here? You’d think we were living next to the ‘Rat Kingdom’.”  
“Rat Kingdom” was a little moniker that the couple, and a grand number of other people, called a certain theme park owned by the largest entertainment industry company in the known world.  
“Oh yes, we know, Ben,” continued Aurella, still not placated. “We had to go through it just to get here. The pushes slowed down before we were in sight of the hospital, but David insisted we get a ‘professional opinion’. “ She smiled as she patted the botler’s shoulder with an endeared smile.  
Benjamin also smiled. “Good on you, Dave,” praised the botler’s master. “Always better to be safe than sorry, right?”  
“Indeed, sir,” agreed the Sterling android. The master added, “As long as she’s healthy, the baby’s healthy and they’re both safe, that’s all that matters.”  
“I guess,” half-heartedly acquiesced the pregnant lady with half-closed eyes. “So how about we get out of here? I’m going to get myself two chili dogs with some ranch and spinach.”  
David gave a confused raise of an eyebrow, but Ben simply chuckled. “Okay, hon. We’ll get that for you. I’ll drive you over to the diner and you can chow down.”  
“I would rather,” Aurella began, “that David and I go to that diner.”  
Ben was left looking a little hurt. “What?...But I’m here now, I can just drive you over and David can drive the Buick back home.” Even David thought that might be the average course of action, but Mrs. Aurella brought up some pretty good points.  
“Ben, if anybody sees David driving that car by himself, without his license, somebody is going to assume that he’s an outmode and stole the car.”  
That made David gasp as he realized the faux pas. “By Sterling, would they?”  
“Yes, David-dear, they would. And I’m not going to let that happen to you,” Aurella told him with a motherly assurance, patting his cheek.  
Ben figured out what his wife was doing, playing along with it. “And driving by yourself to the place is out of the question, of course?”  
The pregnant woman gave Ben a tired and unimpressed look. “No kidding. Besides, I know you have to get back to work. You don’t want those music stars thinking you’re a flake, do you?” This was a bit of revenge on all of the times that Ben had been late for everything since Evan was born. He was late for everything, and it started to wane on what remained of Aurellas’ patience. Sure, she enjoyed this comfortable life, but what good was it if the children could not live it with their father present? Better yet, what good was luxury if she could not spend that time with her husband? She was actually enjoying spending time with David. It was like hanging out with some young friend who would listen to you and cared about you, as much as respected you highly. She knew it was just because David was programmed to do so, but the innocent intimacy was something that Aurella craved, and the presence of someone helping out and being watchful was what the children needed.  
Even Ben had to admit it: he loved his family, but his occupation demanded too much of his time. “Alright, darling, I’ll see you at home.” Ben told her that before he took her hand and kissed it, throwing Aurella off. She hated how he could remind her that wasn’t truly a negligent husband. But she needed him more than she needed the money. She sighed in defeat, remembering that his job was not nearly as much his fault as it was the need for musicians to get a decent representation in the business.  
“I love you, Ella, my gorgeous queen~,” the man told her with adoring eyes. Aurella scrunched up her nose and laughed in the back of her throat as she nudged him and waved him off. “Get out of here, you—honey-tongued dork,” she laughed before giggling at her husband batting his eyes at her.  
“Okay, sweetie. I *do* love you, you know.”  
“(*sigh*) I know, honey,” she answered in happy defeat.  
The pregnant woman smiled as she watched her man walk back down the other end of the hall, trying to get to his car. She turned to see David beaming at her, his cheeks aglow with an artificial glint in his eyes.  
“What?” she asked with amused annoyance.  
“You two are just so lovely together, Mrs. Warner,” answered the android with such sincerity. That only made Aurella feel a lot guiltier for feeling like her husband was abandoning her with work…and suddenly she remembered how hungry she was. The baby inside her was *demanding* those odd chilidogs now. “Okay,” she said, “we need to find the diner now. This kid is getting all kinds of upset with me for not feeding him soon enough. To the nearest greasy spoon, Jeeves.”  
David looked at her in slight confusion. “Greasy spoon? Jeeves?”  
The robot’s mistress gave a nonplussed expression as she passed by him in the hall. “David, honey, we are going to *have* to get you on the internet when we get home. You *barely* know enough slang to get around with.”  
“Apologies, ma’am,” offered David, feeling inadequate.

The day after the little scare of an early birth, Mrs. Warner had called David as she sat in the main living room. “David? You mind coming here, dear?” she called to him.  
David was only finishing up putting away and organizing the contents of the family’s refrigerator when he heard the mistress call for him. “Of course, ma’am. On my way.”  
The robot thoroughly washed his hands and dried them off on a towel before straightening his uniform and tie. He approached the living room to see Mrs. Warner on the lounge chaise, two boxes full of CDs and records, even some old tapes. There were also binders filled with plastic sleeves and a few hard-back books. There was a lap-top on the table with a video paused on the famous videos site that everyone watched things on. The robot seemed genuinely curious as to what the mistress needed.  
“Ma’am, you called?”  
“Oh, yes David,” Aurella assured him. “Come on, sit down here with me. I want to talk with you about something.”  
David could only blink and nod with an answer of, “Yes, ma’am,” to the lady of the house’s direction.  
Once he was settled onto his side of the chaise lounge, Aurella pulled out one of the binders of plastic sleeves, opening it up to reveal a plethora of old concert posters, articles from famous magazines, even a few pages from a famous gentleman’s special interest magazine. “Did you know there was a specific reason why we picked you, David?” asked the robot’s mistress.  
“Because you needed an assistant for your everyday needs, I would assume, ma’am,” the robot answered matter-of-factly.  
Mrs. Warner smiled and gave a small shake of her head. “That’s not the only reason,” she admitted, opening the binder to show a black and white image of a very thin human male with hair very close to David’s own, a sharp yet soft nose, angled brows and a strong chin. It was almost exactly like David but as a human being. The botler stared at the man and he blinked. He swore he felt something click in his programming at the sight of him, leaning forward to get a better look at the image. His optics looked to the left and they read: “Sound + Vision David Bowie.”  
“Ma’am,” asked David, seeming confused, “did you specifically have me purchased to…resemble this man?”  
Aurella chuckled as she nodded. “Yeah, a little awkward I know…But my husband became a music business man. He also used to be a musician himself. This man died a long time ago, but people still love his music as if it all came out yesterday. His music and other works are timeless. He inspired so many different kinds of people and had such a precious imagination.”  
David flipped over the plastic pages in the binder, seeing different looks for the man from different albums and interviews over the years of his life. “I gather that you were a devout fan, ma’am?” asked the bot to his mistress before he reached into one of the boxes and pulled out a CD case with the title “Black Star.”  
“I come from a line of them. My great-great grandmother was a fan since the 1970s, my great grandmother since the 1990s, my mom since the 2020s…now me. Mister Warner is a fan, too. Our love of Bowie was one of the things that brought us together. I wanted to get a botler that would be an homage to him… and also a little secret ‘I love you’ to my husband as you were a gift shared between us as much as help for the kids.”  
David got quiet, his optics searching over the collection of paraphernalia and music centered around this long-gone celebrity. “Aside from music…what else did he do?”  
That seemed to animate Mrs. Warner quite a bit. “Oh, what *didn’t* he do? He was a musician, composer, he could play the piano, keyboard, the guitar, the saxophone and something called a koto… He was also a model, an actor, an activist…and he was even a writer when he wasn’t writing all of his own music and lyrics.”  
David seemed rather impressed with everything the mistress told him. “That’s amazing, Mrs. Warner. One man did all of that?”  
The lady nodded to him, “Yep, every last bit. He worked even through his bout of cancer near the end of his life.” The mention of that seemed to affect David, his eyes blinking as his brows tilted softly up.  
“How old was he?” he asked his mistress.  
“He was just 69,” she answered with a little tinge of sadness in her voice.  
David grew silent again. When he did speak up, he asked, “Did he have any children?” to which his mistress answered, “Oh, yes. Two, actually. In fact, I think they were between two women.”  
That made David’s cheeks light up and his brows to raise high. “Oh,” blurted the robot in restrained surprise. “Did he happen to have…many experiences with women? Perhaps even while still married?”  
“Toootally,” remarked Aurella. “Affairs, tristes, the whole shebang. He even did it with a couple of guys during his career.”  
That surprised and interested David simultaneously. “So, he was bisexual?”  
“Yes, but I think he was very picky with who he went to bed with.”  
David gave a sideways grin with, “Well, looking as he did, he could probably afford to be picky. Did he stay looking like that, all handsome with elvish features?”  
The lady of the house nodded her head. “Oh, heck yeah! Here,” she directed as she took the binder and showed him a picture from one of his last interviews in a music magazine. “See? Older, but definitely still a catch. Has a sort of distinguished British fatherly appearance,” stated the lady, laying back on the chaise, resting her head against her hand. David smiled at the appearance of his namesake in his older years. “So, he was loved until the end?” the robot asked cautiously.  
The lady nodded. “He was greatly missed, by more than just his immediate family. He was and still is an icon for music and modern fashion…Beauty standards, too.”  
The robot gave a wistful smile. “Such an interesting man to be named for,” he said, his hand passing over an image of the man, where he had red hair and an eye-patch.

David looked over to his mistress and wondered, “Why tell me all of this, Mrs. Warner? Am I supposed to be used as entertainment for guests on top of my other duties, or…is something else intended?” To that the lady waved a hand, sitting up on her end of the chaise lounge. “No-no-no, it’s just a little preference between me and Mr. Warner. I mean, perhaps you’ll have to help us entertain guests, but I don’t see you having to do anything as involved as actual recording sessions or concerts. Although it would be nice to have some live music in the house now and then, so to speak.”  
David smiled at the idea. “Well, I would be honored to perform for you, Mrs. Warner. Whenever you should need.”  
The lady gave a warm smile to the robot and nodded. “I appreciate that, David. I really do.” Then a thought occurred to her. “You know what? We’ve already gone this far in making you resemble the man, might as well (*grunt*) go the whole nine yards.” Aurella then positioned herself to sit up properly, pushing herself up, holding her belly to settle herself comfortably. David nonverbally offered to help her, but she shook her head happily. With a sigh, she turned her head to look at David, telling him, “Are you able to change your voice, David?”  
David nodded in the affirmative. “Of course, ma’am. I am equipped with a full voice modulation program which can be edited at any time you choose.”  
“Perfect~,” the lady purred. “Alright then, can you start with changing your accent?”  
“What type of accent, ma’am?”  
“British accent, Cockney British.”  
David makes a couple of adjustments to his regional accent and dialect. “How’s this, mum?”  
Aurella cringed a bit, her face twisting into a look of mild disgust. “Yikes~…Okay, um…maybe if we make your voice a little deeper.”  
“What percentage?”  
The lady crossed her arms as she thought carefully. “Let me see, here. Tryyyy…20 percent more?”  
Another adjustment, David made odd sounds as he said vowels and then pronounced them different ways. After he was done with that he looked to his mistress and asked, “How is this, mum?”  
Aurella hurmed, raising a hand up to place curled fingers up over pursed lips. “Okay, that’s not bad… Say these three sentences: ‘The rain in Spain lies mainly on the plain.’ ‘The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.’ ‘Peter Picked a peck of pickled peppers.’ Can you do that for me?”  
David nodded with, “Yes, mum,” and then proceeded to say each sentence in succession. Aurella didn’t seem all that satisfied and even a little worried. She bit her bottom lip as she continued to speculate. “Okay…try saying supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”  
David did as he was told. Aurella still did not seem satisfied and shook her head with confusion. “How is it not working?” she wondered aloud. She then looked David up and down and her eyes went wide as she snapped her fingers. “Okay, got an idea. Reduce the depth in your voice 5 percent, increase the bass 10 percent, raise the treble 16 percent.”  
David made all of the adjustments. “How is this, mum?” he asked.  
Aurella raised a brow. “Okay, not bad…Could you repeat those sentences and that one long word?”  
“About the rain, the peppers fellow, the fox and the Mary Poppins word?”  
“If you would, please, dear,” acknowledged the lady, pressing her hands together in a tilt.  
And so, David repeated all of the test phrases. Aurella folded her hands together, her index fingers pointing up and pressed to her lips in scrutiny. “Hmm, we’re very close now. Now you just sound like Bowie imitating Mick Jagger.”  
David looked a little disappointed. Aurella picked up on it and she leaned close to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Ohhh, sweetie, it’s okay~,” she reassured him. “You don’t have to get it all at once…or at all. We’ll still be happy as you are. You can adjust your voice back if you want.”  
“Alright, ma’am,” David answered her, his factory standard voice returning. He still sounded a little dejected that he could not please his mistress as she had hoped.  
“Welp…I’m going to go to my regular little book club over at Mrs. Mendenhall’s summer home. I’m being picked up by Rebecca and her chauffeur today. It’s really a cleverly disguised pre-baby-shower party, I just know it. That or Mrs. Mendenhall wants to show off how smart her little boy is again. It’s like, yes, we get it, your kid was talking full sentences at 2-years-old and he can read Animal Farm.” She stood up from the chaise lounge with accepted help from David this time and turned to him. “You can watch over the house and the kids while I’m away, right?”  
David nodded proudly, “Of course ma’am, that’s why I’m here.” He then shifted to his normal caring self as he walked alongside her, “Will you be needing anything other than your bag and a hat when you go out, ma’am?”  
“No, I think I’ve already got everything, save for those. Oh! Could you get me my copy of Blind Duck?”  
It was the latest combination mystery and romance romp story by an accomplished author, and it was supposed to be somewhat controversial. Mrs. Mendenhall and some of the other ladies attending, unknown to Mrs. Warner, were part of the committee for the book ratings. Two of them were even part of the MPAA.  
David swiftly returned to Mrs. Warner with the book in his artificial hand. “Here you are, ma’am.”  
Aurella took the book with a smile. “Thank you, David. Keep the place in order for me.”  
“Will do, ma’am,” he told her as she began to walk out the door. A black car began pulling up into the driveway as she descended the front steps carefully. She then stopped at the bottom step, turning around. “Oh, David?” she called out to her robot.  
“Yes, ma’am?” answered the robot as he held the door open, about to re-enter the house.  
“Could you please put those boxes up in the master closet for me? You have my permission to look over it all before putting it up. Or we could look over it tomorrow, okay?”  
“Oh, of course, ma’am,” answered David, his cheeks lighting up a little. To think that the mistress would trust him with what must have been to her like a family treasure. He felt touched that such trust was placed in him and he went to check a few more chores that he wanted to see needed done.  
He started to organize the David Bowie stuff back in the boxes after looking over a few more pictures and album covers and was about to lift one of the boxes to put it back in the mistress’ boudoir closet…but then his eyes pointed back to the laptop on the coffee table. Somehow it was still on. It had not gone into sleep mode or anything. He moved the mouse and sat down as he looked at the screen to see an image of one of the album covers he had recognized in the first of the two old boxes. It seemed the mistress was listening to one of his namesake’s songs on a playlist on the video site she was browsing.  
He read the title of the song that was currently displayed on screen.  
“Space Oddity…Hm.”  
Just out of curiosity, he took the headphones and placed them atop his head. Then, he pressed play.

It was a long and well-made playlist. Many of the late artist’s best songs, even some experimental tunes. David wanted to make sure he didn’t spend all of his time on just listening to music and interviews, so he set an internal timer for when he should pick up the kids from their respective places of education and when to get the kitchen ready for dinner. He also had all of the music sped up in play so that his robotic mind could process it all on his own time. He would listen to it all at normal speed when he had more time. Even though all of the songs passed by swiftly, he could hear every word and every note, his processor not cheating him as he both gleaned and appreciated everything. He then landed on one song that was actually a combined effort between the artist and a group called Pink Floyd.  
He opened up a tab to the side on the same site, checking out music by this Pink Floyd and its Roger Waters. His favorite he found was “Shine On, You Crazy Diamond.”  
David then started opening tabs in the browser listening to many songs by them and any recommended artists and music. He also found Queen, Billy Joel, Iggy Pop, Meatloaf, The Rolling Stones, Aerosmith, The Police and Sting. He also picked up some funk and soul from James Brown, Earth Wind and Fire, George Clinton and even found Electric Light Orchestra.  
He then looked up old rock and roll and blues music to look up the origins of it all. The one old rock and roll artist he liked the most was Little Richard. Jerry Lewis was nice, but he just didn’t have Mr. Richard’s edge.  
Then he clicked on electronic dance music and house. Things got weird when he came across dubstep. He could only listen to a few of those songs before he had to stop play and shook his head.  
Soon he had also discovered Gothic music choices, being quite intrigued with a group called Nine Inch Nails.  
Just out of curiosity he looked up the main singer for NIN to find out that Trent Reznor had performed with Bowie. So he looked up some songs involving him working with his namesake.  
He also incidentally found out about the artist Marilyn Manson. Listening to a few songs, David had to raise his brows and his cheeks glowed. “Oh, dear~,” he commented at some of the lyrics, hoping the children wouldn’t hear some of it until they were much older.  
David remembered the experiment that Mrs. Warner had tried to conduct, and he made an independent decision. He turned back to the page on the browser that had the David Bowie playlist, fascinated to see there was a song remixed by him, with the original vocals and lyrics by Bowie.  
It was all so terribly engrossing to him, learning of the artist and his music, and so many other kinds of music. He even ventured to watch some interviews with David as he was when he was alive.  
He was just finished with a video about what Mr. Jones thought of smoking before the timer went off.  
“Oh Bollocks! I nearly forgot the kids!” he exclaimed as he put the laptop in sleep mode before getting himself ready to take the bus to Darcia’s school, followed by Evan’s. He had yet to have his service driving license instated, and he still had to take a state driving test. David was actually programmed to be fully capable of driving, even an outdated program for driving manual operation cars. Sterling Robotics had to take into account the possibility that one of their clients might be a collector of antique cars.  
The reason why David still hadn’t acquired his driver’s license yet was because Mr. Warner still had not taken him to the DMV to take care of it.

Darcia walked out from the main building of the public school she attended, looking around for the botler or her mother to be standing near the pick up area , surrounded by some friends of hers.  
Several minutes passed and Darcia was left confused as she was still here after three minutes more.  
David and her mom were usually so prompt to come and pick her up right when school had let out all the kids.  
Darcie didn’t mind having some more time to speak with her friends, but it was a sudden oddity.  
“Isn’t your mom supposed to pick you up?” asked her friend, Terisha, a sometimes loud but well-mannered African American girl with the best hair in the whole class.  
“You don’t think she forgot you? That would be pretty sad,” teased Jenny Kroppe. Jenny was the frenemy of a lot of the girls in Darcie’s class.  
“Oh, my God, Jennifer. Shut-Up,” complained Farah Hessburg, coming to Darcia’s defence. Farah was the best-looking of the girls in that class or even in the school. Perhaps her parents made some sort of prediction when they named her.  
“Ex-*cuse* you?” retorted Jenny, obviously trying to start a good comeback. But she was cut off by Farah’s quick snap of, “Oh-no-you-shall-Not~.” Farah expressed with her head in a dramatic warble before tilting her head down, looking at Jenny from under raised brows, a sassy finger held up to stop Jenny before she even began. “Why do you keep on doing that? I know you’re trying to be cool and everything, but there’s nothing cool about picking on Darcie. A girl who is learning piano and can play better than you.”  
“AND is good with decimals and fractions while you still have to cheat off of me,” snarkily added Chei Tzoa, an Asian friend of both Darcia and Jenny who sometimes had to be the friend to keep the over-stepping Jenny in check.  
Jenny left her mouth agape in shocked insult. “CHEI!” she balked.  
“Yah~?” flatly wondered the Asian girl with a sideways look and a flippant little grin. Chei cared nothing for Jenny’s pushy ego-trips, and she delighted in letting the would-be queen bee know it.  
“Oh What-EVER~!” Jenny almost growled, leaving the other girls to giggle at the jerky girl’s frustration.  
Not more than a minute later, up came a familiar, blue-eyed, pink-cheeked face.  
“Darcia! Darcia, dear. I’m here,” the robot reassured her. He made a motion like he was letting off two long breaths, letting his internals cool off as he ran a-ways from the bus stop to get there, however later than usual by seven minutes. “I’m so sorry I got here so laggy, Darcia. I was caught up in something rather fascinating on the net and I lost good track o’ time.”  
The little girl stared at him with a sideways glare of confusion. “David?” she asked the botler after an awkward silence.  
David merely answered with a polite and caring, “Yes, darling?” with an expectant look.  
The botler didn’t seem to notice that even the other girls were looking at him curiously.  
“Why are you talking like that?” Darcia asked, the confusion clear on her face.  
Blinking, David had to process what the little girl was saying. “Beg pardon, Miss?”  
“You didn’t have an accent before.”  
David perked up, his face lighting up with surprise. “Wait, you mean my accent changed?”  
“No, I mean you never had an accent before, *period*.”  
Farah even mentioned, “Yeah, now you sound like you came straight outta London, England.”  
That only seemed to leave David pleased as he gave a bright smile.  
“Oh, this is fantastic! I can’t wait for-“ David had to stop himself as he remembered the scheduling. “Oh drat, no time. Sorry, girls, Darcie and I have to scoot along now. If we don’t pick up her brother before the next bus comes he’ll be rather put-out. See you again soon.” He took Darcia’s hand, using the other to lead her on the way in the correct direction.  
And for some random reason, Jenny decided to start up with her mischief again.  
“Look out, Darcie! It’s an imposter outmode come to take you away! Somebody call the cops!”  
David stopped in place and his brows furrowed, his bottom lip pushed up in disgust. “Is that Jennifer Kroppe?” he asked his little mistress, a sneer obvious in his tone. Darcia nodded silently and David was swift to turn and glare down at Jennifer tiredly. “Miss Kroppe, little girls who lie to scare people, and feel a thrill to do so, *and* like to hurt others feelings have a difficult time gaining or keeping any friends. You keep harassing my Darcia, trying to scare her *or* make her feel bad for simply *being*, and I’ll rat on you to your mother.”  
“I’ll just say you’re an outmode and they’ll take you away, scrap jockey!” the little blonde girl threatened.  
That set David off.  
“Right,” grunted the botler through grit teeth.  
Without looking away from Jenny, David took out his smart phone and then looked at the screen for a moment before speed-dialing a number. The voice that came through the speaker phone was all too familiar to Jenny and made her blood run cold.  
“Hello?”  
“Yes, this is Mrs. Kroppe, correct?”  
“Yes, it is. May I ask who’s calling?”  
“This is David, mum. You remember, Mrs. Aurella Warner’s botler?”  
“Oh, yes. Uh, hello David. Might I ask why you’re calling?”  
Jenny tried to snatch the phone from him, David artfully dodging from the moves of the young blonde, screaming, “MOM! NO, DON’T LISTEN TO HIM! HE’S GONE OUTMODE!”  
The lady on the other end of the line asked, “Is that Jenny?”  
David sighed, “Yes, mum, it is. She’s been telling my little girl, Darcie, that I am an outmode and that I am going to kidnap her. I don’t suppose your daughter is aware that Sterling brand androids are all equipped with tracking devices, and it’s impossible for a Sterling brand product to have programming or compliance problems when they are under 2 years worth of operation?”  
“Am I on speaker phone, David?” asked the lady on the other end of the line, prompting Jenny to yell out, “MAWM! HAAALP!” as loud as she can.  
“I certainly don’t trust your Jenny anywhere near the phone my masters have provided me, so yes.”  
Mrs. Kroppe sighed loud enough to be heard through the phone. “Would you mind waiting there for me? I know you usually pick up Evan after Darcia using the bus to get home. I can just give you a lift…while I have a discussion with my daughter about telling lies and bullying the daughter of a fellow member of the PTA.”  
Jenny could obviously tell the annoyed tone was just the precursor to what amount of anger her mother was going to unleash on her when she showed up in the Ford SUV.

Evan hanged around the front of his middle school, wondering just where the heck David and his sister were. David had never been late to pick him up before. It was true that they hadn’t known each other that long, but he was pretty sure that a Sterling robot wasn’t supposed to slip up like this. “Did he get hacked, or something?” he wondered under his breath.  
An SUV drove up in front of the school, stopping exactly in his direction, like directing a perfect beeline to the boy. The back passenger door opened, revealing David as he walked out and called to the boy sitting there with his backpack. “Evan! Come along now, my lad! Time to go!”  
Evan took his bag and stood up, grabbing his bag. “What’s the deal with the mini-van?” the boy called back curiously, approaching especially slow.  
“Mrs. Kroppe is giving us a lift, Master Evan,” explained David, his new British accent really shining through as he used more typical butler talk.  
“I don’t know, Dave. This seems pretty sketch-tacular to me.” The boy was only trying to use his better ability to use logic on this situation. Besides, since when does David accept rides from Mrs. Kroppe? Wasn’t that the mom of that mean girl Darcia had to deal with?  
Then a familiar face poked out from the back passenger door. “Come ON, Evan. The longer you act chicken the more we’re gonna be missing my show!”  
Evan knew for a fact that Darcie couldn’t be fooled by anyone, and she was wary of any strangers. So, it just led to reason that everything was on the level. Evan gave a side-tilt of his head in acceptance and began jogging toward the SUV.  
“Get the lead out!” complained Darcie, leaving David to chuckle and Evan to speed up into a short sprint, calling back, “Alright! Alright! Chill out!”  
Once Evan was settled into the back seat, David joined in the back, closing the door behind him.

On the ride back to the street the Warner children lived, Jenny got a good earful about how her behavior was looking bad on more than just her, and about how disappointed her mother was in her.  
“I honestly don’t know where you get it from,” stated Jenny’s mother, shaking her head.  
Jenny stayed silent after her mother’s scolding. She had no words to explain herself. The truth is she liked being able to make someone react to the things she said. She couldn’t get much of an emotional response from her parents when she was really looking for one. When she could get someone like Darcie to listen to her and take what she said seriously, it made her feel valued, more than the undervalued little girl she felt like at home.  
Then David did something that no one ever did for Jenny. He used reason on her behalf.  
“If you will excuse me, Mrs. Kroppe,” the botler began, “from what I understand in my psychology programming…children who try to manipulate a certain negative reaction from other children, such as fear or self-doubt, is usually a sign that they feel lesser than they should be in their own homes.”  
He notices the look he gets from Mrs. Kroppe from the rear-view mirror, adding, “Of course, that is based entirely off of many years of updated sources of standard psychology and child psychology.”  
The woman driving the car stopped at a red light, looking back to David with, “Just giving that information out for free, are you?”  
David answered, “Even if you had not been so beauteously gracious to offer us this ride, mum, -yes. Do you often find yourself hearing Jennifer saying something, but you don’t have the time, or you feel that perhaps what she feels like discussing is frivolous? Perhaps you don’t want to deal with trivial emotional episodes or obsessions?”  
“Hey!” Mrs. Kroppe practically barked, “I’m not giving you a ride so that you can lecture me on how to raise my daughter.”  
Swiftly David responded, “Had you been lectured to earlier, then your daughter would not have to bully people in order to feel sure of herself.”  
Mrs. Kroppe would have yelled something at the botler, or threatened to toss him out… But then it occurred to her… That sounded exactly like something that Jennifer would do if she was in her position.  
It was her fault.  
It had always been her fault.  
She looked over at her daughter with a sad look in her eyes.  
“Jenny,” Mrs. Kroppe began, her daughter looking up to her with an uncertain look. Jenny’s mother was going to say something heart-felt, but a loud beep came from a car behind them.  
“MOVE it, Lady! We got places to be!” yelled the motorist behind.  
“ALRIGHT! I WAS TRYING TO TALK TO MY DAUGHTER, DAMN IT!”  
Mrs. Kroppe drove on, leaving most of the people in the cabin quiet for a time. The lady spoke up again, addressing the Warner children and their botler. “If you could not tell your mom that I had some road rage and swore today, I would really appreciate it.”  
Evan gave a nearly monotone “Okay” as his little sister gave a nod. David responded with, “Certainly, ma’am. Mum’s the word.”

Before dropping them off at their street, Mrs. Kroppe addressed David. “I want to thank you for that little bit of honesty you shared with me today, David… I’m going to try to spend more time spending some real time with my daughter. I’m going to just listen to her talk from now on…no matter how much I think I don’t have to.” That made Jenny blink toward her mother in awe. Could she really mean it? If this was true, then this meant that Darcie’s robot had just done her a solid.  
“Time is never wasted on a child’s welfare,” stated the botler.  
Mrs. Kroppe nodded as she turned onto the Warner’s street, stopping just a few yards in front of their house. “Here we are, guys. Tell your mom I’ll see her later.”  
“Sure thing, Mrs. K,” answered Evan.  
“Thank you, Mrs. Kroppe,” droned out Darcia gratefully.  
The lady answered them with, “You’re welcome,” as she watched the robot swiftly join his charges, moving to activate the front gate.  
“Hey, David,” Mrs. Kroppe called out to the botler. David turned back to address the lady driver with a curious look. “Yes, ma’am?”  
“You’re right,” she told him.  
David merely blinked at her. “About what, ma’am?” he asked, taking a moment to make sure the children did not rush too fast through the gate to get hurt or break the mechanism.  
“About everything,” she told him plainly. “You’re worth every penny your family spent on you.”  
David smiled, his cheeks glowing a dull pink light. “And children are worth every second of time. Drive safely, Mrs. Kroppe, and thank you.”  
That smile struck some sort of chord in Mrs. Kroppe, something that she hadn’t felt since she fell for a boy for the first time in high school a decade and a half ago…  
Now she was wondering how much it was for one of those botlers.  
Meanwhile, David ushered the kids back to the house, his hands on their shoulders. “So then, either one of you have any homework you would like help with?”  
Evan answered him first. “I’ve got some English and grammar homework that I really need help with. We’re learning how to write essays and the way they want me to do it is kinda confusing.”  
“I just have stuff based on a book report, but it isn’t due until next Friday,” mentioned Darcia.  
David nodded to the information, opening the door for them with the house keys. “Very good, I shall help you with both. Oh, and if you could, try not to mention how my voice has changed. I’d like for it to be a surprise for your parents.”  
“Okay,” agreed the little girl, followed by a simple “Sure” from her brother.

After the kids did their homework, with David’s help for each of them using his programming of grammar and even teaching them a few things based on the subjects of their respective homework assignments, ahead of the teachers.  
Hours after they had joined David in watching things on the video hosting site. They connected the laptop to the big flatscreen they had above the mantlepiece in the livingroom, watching cartoons, music videos and music based on what David had found. 

The next morning, all hell broke loose.  
This time, Mr. Warner was the one to drive Mrs. Warner directly to the hospital. Ben was the first one there, and the bags from the previous days had still been in the Buick. David could only follow things as normal, explaining to Evan and Darcia that they would soon have another sibling in the house.  
But that morning, Aurella Warner was yelling up a storm.  
The children were actually scared by how their mom had been before she and their dad had driven as quickly as possible to the hospital. All David could do was make sure that everything was already prepared before they left.  
That day, David had picked up the children by bus like usual. But, as they were walking the sidewalk to the main house, a car pulled up with some lady and her teenaged son in the front.  
“Are you David?” asked the woman.  
“Yes, ma’am?” addressed the botler, looking curiously to the strange woman. She seemed familiar, but he could not place the face. He also was not familiar with the voice.  
“I’m Ettie? Ethelia Coulter Frakes?” the lady called out.  
Evan smiled at the lady and the boy in the car, Darcia came up from behind David, waving enthusiastically to the lady in the silver Kanimitsu car. “Hi, Aunt Ettie!”  
“Hi, sweetie~!” cooed the lady from her car. She then pulled up in the driveway for the Warner’s house, the sound of car doors being unlocked. “We’re here to pick you up. Gonna join your mom and dad at the hospital.”  
David furrowed his brow. “Madam, I haven’t gotten any such call from-“ he was about to finish that he hadn’t gotten word from the heads of his household, until his phone started going off. He answered it, hearing Benjamin Warner on the other end. “Dave?”  
“Mister Warner, sir?”  
“Yeah, just letting you know that Aurella’s sister, Ethelia, showed up. Ella called her up to have you and the kids picked up.”  
That left the botler surprised. “Oh, I see. Does she have a gray Kanemitsu sedan, a teenaged son?”  
“Yes, and the kids call her Aunt Ettie. Look, go with her, I’ll see you here at the hospital. We’re going to be in the maternity waiting room.”  
The botler nodded out of habit, responding, “Of course, sir. Understood. We’ll be there presently. See you soon.” David then hung up and shrugged, seeming perfectly taken aback by the sudden turn of luck.  
“Right, into the car with Aunt Ettie,” stated the botler in defeat.  
“Way ahead of you Dave. Let’s go,” called Evan, already putting his school bag in the far-back of the car and sliding into the back seat. Even Darcia had already jumped into the car, settling into her own seat with her backpack under her feet. David gave a grimace and filed into the car before it drove away to the city hospital.

Aurella Warner gave birth to her third-born child, Lucius Jones Warner, on Thursday, January the 8th after the week of the new year. The doctors had said that little “Luke” was late, that he should have been born three days earlier. But it was nothing to worry about. He was a perfectly healthy, 9 lbs. and 10 oz. baby boy with his mother’s eyes and a little curl of blonde hair atop his head.  
The labor had taken 14 hours, and the doctors thought there were complications during the procedure, but little Luke had come into the world healthy and loud, in the typical way that babies do.  
Luke was still quite a bit noisy even after everything had calmed down and his weighing, cleaning and swaddling had been done. The mother held her baby, then the father, and the other children and the relatives looked over the beautiful little newborn.  
“Man, he likes to be loud, huh?” Evan commented with a smile.  
“When do they start to go to sleep?” asked Darcia, covering her ears.  
David stood there at the end of the hospital bed, his blue eyes dilated wide as he recorded the entire last hour, hoping to remember every nano-second. He had never seen a fresh new baby. There was little in the way of images from the training school at Sterling, so this was serendipitous.  
Then someone asked the question.  
“Would you like to hold him, David?”  
“What-?” softly asked the robot, his cheeks glowing, his eyes large as if he had a heart that was swelling from the very idea.  
Aurella smiled up at the botler, adjusting the baby in her arms. “Yeah, that’s right. Might as well let you have a turn.”  
The nurses informed the third-time mother, “Are you sure that’s wise, Ma’am?”  
Aurella looked up at the nurse with a tilted brow. “Lady, I have had two of these so far and they both got held by mister butterfingers over there,” she commented pointing to her husband with a tilt of her head. “He even held this one. The robot is a Sterling brand. They are literally built for this. Or have you forgotten about the Sterling bots that work for the Arnold Palmer facilities?”  
The nurse shook her head. “Alright, ma’am. It’s your baby.”  
David was motioned over to Mrs. Warner and she carefully handed little Lucius over to him. Just as he had been trained and designed, he gently cradled the baby’s head with one hand and the little body with his forearm. He carefully bounced the little bundle of life and he smiled down at him with his artificial face, cooing to the little one. A small wail from the baby and David stole a look over to the mother.  
Then something happened. David began to sing.  
“Youuuuuu~  
Yooouuuu~  
Youuuu-ooou~  
…  
Steely resolve  
Is falling from me  
My poor soul  
All bruised passivity  
All your regrets  
Ride rough-shod over me  
I'm so glad  
That we're strangers when we meet  
I'm so thankful  
That we're strangers when we meet  
I'm in clover  
For we're strangers when we meet  
Heel head over  
But we're strangers when we meet  
Strangers when we meet.~”

That was the first time that David had ever sung.  
And that was Luke’s first lullabye.  
The first time the youngest in the family heard David’s special voice.


End file.
